PR 

5221 

Re 





Class. 
Book. 



POEMS 



AND 



MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS. 



POEMS 



iftttsrellaneous €%u$$< 



BY 



HENRIETTA RHODES. 



BRENTFORD 



PRINTED BY P. NORBURY. 



1814. 



-PR?** 1 



205449 
'13 



LIST 



OF 



SUBSCRIBERS, 



Annesley, the Honorable George 2 copies 

Anson, Right Honorable Lord Viscount 2 copies 

Anson, Right Honorable Lady 2 copies 

Anson, the Honorable Miss 
Aston, Miss 
Aston, Miss Maria 



i>. 



Barclay, -, Esq. Bury-Hill 

Barker, Henry Edmund, Esq, Cambridge 
a 3 



VI 



LlsT OF SUBSCRIBERS. 



Bayley, Mrs. 

Beaumont, John, Esq. 

Bicknell, George, Esq. 

Bodfield, Mrs. 

Boycott, Mrs. 

Bradford, Right Honorable Lord 

Bradford, Right Honorable Lady 

Brandon, Mrs. Hay don- Square 

Bridgeman, the Honorable George 

Bridgeman, the Honorable Orlando 

Bridgeman, the Honorable Henry 

Browne, Isaac Hawkins, Esq. 

Browne, Mrs. 

Butler, Lieutenant-Colonel, Bath 



8 copies 
2 copies 
2 copies 

2 copies 



5 copies 
2 copies 



C. 



Castlcstewart, Right Honorable the Countess of 
Champigny, Mrs. Balk 
Chapellow, the Rev. Mr. 



Clark, George, Esq. Bewdley 

Clayton, Miss, Wrbxet&r 

Clonbrock, the Dowager Lady, Bath 

Coates, Miss 3 copies 

Coke, Miss, Holkham 5 copies 

Cooper, , Esq. Bath 

Cork and Orrery, Right Honorable Countess Dowager of 

Corser, the Rev. William 

Cory, the Rev. C. Hornsea 

Cotes, John, Esq. M. P. 5 copies 

Cotes, Miss 

Cotes, Miss Charlotte 

Crump, Mr. sJlbrighton 



J,JST OF SUBSCRIBERS. Yll 



Curzon, the Honorable Miss 
Curzon, the Honorable and Rev. D. 
Curzon, the Honorable Rear-Admiral 
Curzon, the Honorable Captain 



D, 



Dashwood, Mrs. St. Asaph 

Davenport, William Yelverton, Esq. 2 copies 

Davey, Thomas, Esq. 

Dealtry, Percival, JSsq. 

Dennys, Nicholas, Esq. London 

Devonshire, His Grace the Duke of 

Dickenson, Lieutenant -Colonel, Bath 

Drummond, Mrs. Bath 

Dudley and Ward, Right Honorable Viscount 

Dudley and Ward^ Right Honorable Viscountess 



Dyer, Mr. 



Fawtrell, the Rev. Charles 

Fisher, Mrs. Shiffnall 

Fitzroy, Right Honorable Lady Henry 

Floyd, Miss 2 copies 



Galway, Right Honorable Viscount 
Galway, Right Honorable Viscountess 
a 4 



Vlll LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 

Galway, Rijjrht Honorable Dowager Viscountess 

Gatacre, Mrs. Edward 

Getton, Thomas, Esq. 

Gee, the Rev. Robert, JJasle, near Hull 

Gibbon, Mrs. 

Gibbon, Miss E. 

Grey, the Right Honorable Lady Louisa 



H. 



Hall, Mr. 
Hall, Mr. Julian 
Hallen, Mr. George 
Hamilton, Mrs. Bath 

Hardwicke, , Esq. 

Harrison, , Esq. London 

Haslewood, W. Esq. 
Hawker, Joseph, Esq. 
Hill, the Rev. Charles 
Hill, Mrs. Waldron 

Hinchley, } Esq. London 

Hinchley, Mrs. Coton 
Hoare, Sir Richard Colt, Bart. 
Hobhouse, Sir Benjamin, Bait, 
Howard, Mrs. 



Isaac, E. Esq. Wick 



LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. l£ 



-I, 



Johnson, General, Bath 
Johnson, Mrs. Ditto 
Johnson, Miss, Ditto 
Jones, Arthur, Esq, 



Lampet, Lionel, Esq. 

Lee, Lancelot Henry, Esq. 

Lee, Mrs. 

Leman, the Rev. Thomas, Bath 

Literary Club 

Lousada, Baruh, Esq. 



M. 



Macmichael, Mr. 
M'Neal, General, Bath 
Malary, Mrs. 
Marley, Miss 
Matthews, Mr. Bath 
Milner, John, Esq. Erdington 
Monckton, the Honorable Edward 
Monckton, the Honorable Mrs. 
Monckton, the Honorable Miss 
Monckton, the Honorable Miss Fanny 
Monckton, Miss Sophia 



X LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS 

Monckton, Miss Leonora 

Monckton, Miss Anna Maria 

Monckton, Edward, Esq. 

Monckton, Hugh, Esq. 

Monckton, William, Esq. 

Montague, the Rev. Dr. Oxford 

Moseley, Walter, Esq. Layton 

Moseley, Walter, Esq. Winterdine 

Moukree, John, Esq. 2 copies 

Moultree, Mrs. 2 copies, 

Moultree, Captain 



N\ 



Natchbult, Mr. 

Needham, the Honorable General 
Needham, the Honorable Mrs. 
Needham, the Six Misses 

Nesbit, , Esq. 

Newnham, Miss 
Norman, Anthony, Esq. 



e, 



Omblcr, Mrs. 



Parkes, Mr. 
Parr, the Rev. Dr. 
Phipps, Warner, Esq. 



LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS, 



XI 



Pigot, Sir George, Bart. 
Pigot, Lady 
Pigot, General 
Pigot Mrs. 
Pigot, Miss 
Pigot, Miss Fanny 
Piatt, Mr. Richard 
Proud, Miss Ann 



5 copies 
5 copies 

4 copies 

2 copies 
2 copies 



Richards, Mr. 

Richardson, « -, Esq. Calcutta 

Robins, Joseph, Esq. 
Humbold, the Honorable Lady 



2 copies 



S. 



Scarsedale, Right Honorable Lord 

Scarsedale, Right Honorable Lady 

Shaw, Mrs. 

Shipley, the very Rev. Dr. Dean of St. Jsapli 

Shipley, the Rev. Charles 

Shipral, Mr. George 

Smith, the Honorable Lady 

Sparkes, Joseph, Esq. 

Sparkes, Mrs. 

Sparkes, Captain Sherrington 

Spurgeon, the Rev. T. G. 

Stamford and Warrington, Right Honorable Earl of 

Stamford and Warrington, Right Honorable Countess of 



ill LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 

Stanier, Miss E. 

St. Leger, the Rev. 9 Bath 

Stokes, Dr. 
Stokes, Miss 



Talbot, Right Honorable Earl 
Taylor, Farmer, Esq. 
Taylor, David Jun. Esq. 
Turner, the Rev, T. A. Becket 
Tvdd, Lady 



Upton,, Charles^ Esq. 



Valentia, Right Honorable Viscount 3 copies 

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Vickers, the Rev. W. 



Wait, William, Esq. 
Walesley, the Rev. Dr. 

Ward, Mrs. 
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Whitcombc, Samuel, Esq. 



LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. 



xiii 



White, , Esq. 

White, Mrs. 



Whitmore, Thomas, Esq. M, P. 


10 copies 


Whitmore, Mrs, 


5 copies 


Whitmore, William, Esq. 


5 copies 


Whitmore, Mrs. W. 


5 copies 


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5 copies 


Whitmore, John Henry, Esq. 


2 copies 


Whitmore, Miss Fanny 




Whitmore, Miss Janetta 




Whitmore, John, Esq. 


5 copies 


Whitmore, Mrs. 


2 copies 



Whitmore, John Jun. JEsq. 
Whyte, Mrs. 

Worral, , Esq. 

Wrighte, Miss 3 copies 

Wrottesley, Sir John, Bart. 3 copies 

Wrottesley, Right Honorable Lady Caroline 6 copies 

Wrottesley, the Honorable Lady 3 copies 

Wrottesley, Miss 5 copies 

Wrottesley, Miss Charlotte 5 copies 

Wrottesley, the Honorable Miss Louisa .5 copies 

Wrottesley, Henry, Esq. 
Wrottesley, the Rev. Charles 
Wylde, the Rev. Robert 



Yonge, Mr. 

Yonge, Mrs. 



POEMS. 



SIR EDSIC. 

A LEGENDARY TALE. 



WHILE o'er the plain a lengthen'd shade 

Proclaim'd the close of day, 
And through the glen, but faintly stole 

Eve's soft, and dusky ray; 

A warrior, worn with care and thought, 

In pensive sorrow came ; 
Whose graceful form, and deeds of worth 

No strangers were to fame. 

For he, amid the warlike band 

Unequal valour show'd — 
The love of science filFd his mind — 

His breast with virtue glow'd. 

But now that war had ceas'd, and peace 

Was lur'd to Mercia's plain ; 
Each chief the well-known path pursu'd, 

His long lost home to gain. 

Not so Sir Edric — other cares, 

His gentle mind opprest; 
For Friendship's parting breath had urg'd, 

A sad — a fond request. 

B 



POEMS .1X1) 

And deep he mourn'd the fatal cause, 

Deep felt the sacred trust ; 
And "till this duty was perform'd, 

Believ'd himself unjust. 

For this, through many a desert wild, 

He many a day had sped, 
Well mounted on his favourite steed 

Who safe through dangers led. 

But now the aid of balmy rest 

His wearied limbs require; 
And much to find some hamlet shed 

His longing eyes desire! 

" Does fancy give ideal forms 
" To those dark clouds of grey ? 

" Or does a castle, to my sight, 
" Its tow'ring height display?" 

He urg'd his steed, and through the gloom 

Saw battlements arise ; 
" Welcome, ye lofty towers, which blend 

" Your outline with the skies!" 

A draw-bridge, fast secur'd within, 

Forbade the unlicens'd guest ; 
And the stupendous walls, a rude 

Magnificence exprest. 

Sir Edric paus'd awhile, that he 

The Castle might survey; 
And whilst he view'd the gloomy pile, 

His heart felt sad dismay; 



MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS. 

For not one chearing ray of light, 

His strained eye-balls found; 
Nor yet was his attentive ear, 

Struck with the smallest sound! 

At length the pillar caught his eye, 

To which a horn was hung ; 
And quick he blew so shrill a blast, 

As through the castle rung. 

From whence reverberating slow, 

Through eve's unruffled gale, 
Oft, but more faint, it reach'd the ear, 

Then died along the vale. 

And soon advancing steps are heard; — 

And soon a knight appears, 
Who with uncourteous voice demands 

Why he such summons hears. 

" A warrior faint with toil, presumes 

" This night for rest to sue, 
" For darkness spreads apace, and hides 

" The path he had in view." 

" Not unto me," the knight replied, 

" Belong these vast domains; 
" These towers my friend Earl Ruthin won, 

" And bravely still maintains ; 

" But if thou com'st not with design, 

" Nor prov'st thyself a foe ; 
" Safety and rest thou mays't enjoy, 

" For these I can bestow." 



POEMS AM) 

The draw-bridge past, Sir Edric's thanks, 

A sullen welcome found, 
And as they pass'd the spacious courts, 

Which buildings vast surround, 

Deep hollow echoes struck his ear: — 

'Twas but his own firm tread — 
Yet never had his dauntless soul, 

Before felt equal dread! 

The portal gaind, they long pursued, 

An arehed passage way, 
Where from the walls, some straggling lamps 

Diiius'd a glimmering ray. 

A large apartment next they gain'd — 

" Here," his conductor cried, 
" Thou may'st repose, and soon with food 

" Thou shalt be well supply'd." 

Cold, damp, and dreary was the place! 

No hearth its blaze supplied! 
A single light serv'd to disclose 

A prison vast and wide. 

Am I to be confin'd, thought he ! 

Then treachery lurketh here; 
For never yet in noble minds 

Dwelt sueh suspicious fear. 

Could he the passage find, he hop'cl 

His steed might be regain'd ; 
He tried the door, and joy'd to see, 

The bolts undrawn remaind. 



MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS. 

With cautious steps he sought his way, 

For dim the tapers shone; 
'Till distant accents caught his ear, 

Which spoke distressful moan! 

At which all thoughts of flight gave way 

For yet his generous heart, 
Had never heard the woe, in which 

It did not share a part. 

In mute attention fix'd he stood, 

Impatient to discern 
From whence the sound arose; resolv'd, 

That way his steps to turn. 

At length a piercing shriek he heard — ■ 
Then all was sudden hush'cl — 

To learn no more Sir Edric stay'd, 
But on impetuous rush'd. 

And soon he reach'd th'adjacent tower, 
From whence the accents broke; 

And soon he mark'd the room, in which 
A voice, inhuman, spoke. 

" These female arts avail thee not, 

" For fix'd is my design; 
" Too long entreaty has been us'd, 

" And force shall make thee mine.'" 

" Release thy victim, miscreant knight," 

Sir Edric, entering, cried, 
" Or else the force you would employ, 

" With me must first be tried. 

b 3 



POEMS AND 

" If to thy breast, Nature's best gift, 

" MERCY, has been denv'd; 
" Why do'st thou wear a badge, that says, 

" True honour is thy guide? 

" Thou know'st that little word contains 

" All that is dear to fame! 
" Then let me be thy friend, and save 

" Thee from a deed of shame." 

Surprize and rage o'erpower'd the Earl, 

His words no passage found; 
And looking death, the fainting fair, 

Had sunk upon the ground. 

Sir Edric flew to her relief, 

With accents soft and kind; 
And as he rais'd her, strove to chase 

The terror from her mind. 

The furious Earl at length found words- 
Rage flashing from his eyes ! — 

And loudly call'd for arms, that he 
The intruder might chastise. 

Osric, subservient to his will, 

Heard not his voice in vain; 
And on his ready steps attend, 

A servile looking train, 

Who fiercely rais'd their falchions high, 

Sir Edric to assail;— 
A) id what against such numerous foes, 

Could single might avail? — 



MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS. f 

O'erpower'd, he fell; his arms are seiz'd, 

Himself in fetters ty'd; 
But his unconquer'd soul, with scorn 

The tyrant still defied. r 

" 'Twas I, the stranger introduc'd ;" 

Said Osric to his friend; 
" On me alone, his punishment 

" Most justly should depend 

" 'Twou'd stain thy name and rank, shou'd'st thou 

" With him the combat dare; 
" And vict'ry oft attends that arm, 

" Made furious by despair. 

" Should he repass thy walls, and tell 
" What he has witness'd here, 
From such a tale, too well we know 
" How much we have to fear. 

Revenge, and safety both require 
" That death should be his doom ; 
Then let him in the dungeon find 
" Unheard, a living tomb." 

Thou counsel'st well," the Earl replied, 
" Such vengeance is my due; 
Nor to the miscreant's pray'rs will I 
" Favour or mercy shew." 

" No miscreant sues thy favour, Earl," 

Sir Edric proudly cried; 
" A knight I am, and oft have fought 

" By our lov'd monarch's side. 

B 4 



u 



a 



POEMS AKD 

cc Amid the woods, which skirt thy wallgj 
" Darkness my steps betray'd; 

" And, stranger to the path I sought, 
" I lost it in the shade. 

u Thy turrets gave me hope their chief 

" Possess'd a noble mind; 
" And that the rest my toils requir'd, 

" In safety I might find. 

u I crav'd admittance, and 'twas given, 
" With prompt, and kind accord; 

" And as unknown to me, were both 
" The castle and its lord, 

ec How could I treachery mean, or how 

" Commit a base design? 
<c With but a single arm t'oppose 

" To numerous hosts like thine. 

" Tis true, the cries I heard, awoke 

" Compassion in my breast; 
" Such as each loyal knight is sworn 

" To yield to the distrest. 

(( Nor will thy cooler thoughts condemn 

" My interposing hand; 
iC For oft we joy, that passion broke 
" Not, Virtue's stern command. 

<f Then let me hence depart, for I 

" Important tidings bear, 
" To noble Randolph's castle, meant 

cf To meet his daughter's ear." 



MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS, 

Starting, the Earl with added rage 

Gave orders to his train, 
Who drag Sir Edric on so fierce, 

He finds resistance vain. 

They reach a solitary tower, 

And, horrid to behold! 
A pond'rous door the pavement shows, 

Which massive bars unfold! 

Within this dreadful living tomb 

To every ill exposed, 
They forc'd the knight, and then the door 

For ever on him clos'd! 

Oh ye! who share the splendid joys, 
Which Fortune's gifts bestow, 

And led by Hope's seducive smiles, 
With future transports glow, 

O say, could the exulting heart 

Find refuge from despair, 
If one short hour revers'd the scene, 

And planted mis'ry there? 

Such were Sir Edric's brighter days — - 

Such now his wretched state; 
Famine approach' d, and ling'ring death a 

His fix'd and certain fate. 

J)arkness so hideous, so profound, 
Dwelt in this loathsome place, 

The hardiest courage was requir'd, 
Its boundaries to trace. 



10 POE.VS AND 

With such firm courage mov'd the knight— 
I lis steps obstructed were, 

By mould'ring bones ; for many a wretch 
Had surely perish'd there ! 

Reflection now fresh horrors shed, 

O'er the terrific gloom ; — 
lie wept their fate, and sunk appall'd, 

Beneath his own sad doom. 

His chilled blood so slowly crept, 

His pulse so feebly beat ; 
That life seem'd from his woe-struck heart 

Just ready to retreat. 

Faintly imprinted on his mind, 

The past adventures stand, 
Like an imperfect hasty sketch, 

Drawn by a trembling hand. 

Almost unconscious, long he lay, 

E'er thought return'd again; 
Alas! by Avhat was thought arous'd, 

But the keen sense of pain ! 

" And must the hopes of youth," he cried, 

" Untimely fall away? — 
" And its best praise, a well-earn'd name, 

" 80 early know decay? 



Must a fell tyrant's harsh decree 
" Destroy my bright career? 
Shall my unhappy fate excite 
" No sympathizing tear? 



MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS. 11 

e( Ignoble death, alone I fear; 

" Yet had I first achiev'd, 
" What to my youth's best friend I owe, 

" At death I had not griev'd. 

" Yet how, my Randolph, shall I greet 

" You, in the realms above, 
" The duty, undischarg'd, I owe 

" To your paternal love? 

" And thou, most beauteous maid, whose grief 

" Has touch'd my very soul; 
ce Wilt thou a hopeless victim live, 

" To this stern EaiTs controul? 

" No! — Innocence will surely meet 

" From Heaven a sweet regard! 
" And guilt, which virtue would destroy, 

" Receive its just reward!" 

New vigour from this confidence 

Seem'd to his bosom giv'n; 
For hope descends, when pious faith 

Reposes trust in Heaven. 

With renovated strength he rais'd 

His body from the ground; 
And with deliberative step, 

Examin'd well around. 

Alas! his utmost search was vain, 

He no discovery made; 
And stumbling o'er a heap of stones 

Again was prostrate laid. 



12 POEMS AND 

What rapture darted through his frame!— 

He found the prison wall 
An ample ruin, which had left 

A passage by its fall; 

O'er which with eager haste he crept, 

And found he had attain d 
A second vault, where the same gloom 

Impenetrable reign'd! 

Here steep and rough-hewn stairs he found, 

Of dangerous ascent ; 
But hope irradiate led his steps, 

And on he fearless went. 

He travers'd still a gloomy length, 
Where solemn stillness dwelt; 

And with his arms extended wide, 
The dubious passage felt. 

At last a trembling ray of light 

He spy'd across the floor, 
And soon he found it made its way 

From an adjoining door. 

With noiseless steps, and breathless haste 

lie to the opening flew, 
Which gave the lovely captive maid 

To his delighted view. 

Oh ! hast thou in a summer's eve, 
When clouds the heavens deform ; 

Jn misty sweeps along the vale, 
Beheld the furious storm? 



MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS. ij 

Then hast thou mark' d the lily, white. 

Beat by the falling* rain, 
'Till quite surcharged, its fragrant head. 

Hung- drooping- o'er the plain? 

So look'd the sad, and weeping fair, 

For sorrow bow'd her head ; 
And from her pale-grown lips and cheek 

The rosy hue had fled! 

With voice more soft than ever sprung 

From sympathizing breast, 
The knight the silence broke, and thus 

The captive he address'd. 

c< Ah! let not sorrow, lovely maid, 

" With thee a dwelling mid : 
u For Heaven to such an angel's form 

" An angel's peace assign'd ! 

u Behold me here to guard, to save, 

" To serve, and set thee free! 
" For surely Heaven my life preserved, 

" To give thee liberty !" 

He ceas'cl — his words thrill'd through her hearty 

She rose, by hope impell'd ; 
With trembling steps approach'd the door. 

With doubting eyes beheld 

The graceful youth, whose dreadful fate, 

With anguish deep had torn 
Her wounded heart; and in her thoughts 

The largest share had borne. 



I 1 P0EJ7S A \ D 

Her passive hand he gently seiz'd, 

His purpose told again ; 
And urg'd success, till in her breast, 

Scarce any doubts remain. 

And now to learn the fatal cause, 
Which held her captive there, 

Sir Edric asks; and to the tale, 
Listens with anxious care. 

" Not far from hence a castle stands, 
" Whose tow'rs to fame are known, 

" From val'rous acts, and bounteous deeds 
" By each possessor shown. 

" Within its walls I first drew breath, 
" But knew no mothers care ; 

" For Heaven recall'd her, e'er my lips 
" Could beg of Heaven to spare. 

" A father's love supplied the loss, 

" My early age sustain' d ; 
" To whom I solely now, the pledge 

" Of former joys remain'd. 

" Each gen'rous sentiment was his ; 

" And from my earliest youth, 
" He taught my ductile mind, the love 

" Of virtue, and of truth. 

" With winged pleasures years flew on; 

" For through our happy dome, 
" Cheerfulness reign'd ; and mild content, 

" Had mark'd it for her home. 



MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS. 15 

%i Thus like a summer's roseate morn, 

" Life's early dawn had fled; 
" When blackening clouds arose, and burst 

" With fury o'er my head ! 



« 



An ancient Baron rul'd these lands, 
" To whom Earl Ruthin came ; 
And by a forged ancestry, 
" Asserted prior claim. 

The contest soon by arms was tried! 
" Ah me! I rue the day 
Which saw the Baron fall, and gave 
" The Earl an uncheck'd sway. 

He sought my father's social hall ; 
(i And I unhappy prove, 
The object his impetuous soul, 
" Was doom'd to see and love! — ■ 

Presuming that his high descent, 
" And riches must prevail ; 
With all the confidence of power, 
" He told the hated tale. 

To banish such delusive hopes, 
" Employ'd my earnest care; 
" And when re-urg'd, the haughty Earl 
" Has heard me oft declare, 

" No time my firm resolve could change 

" Or perseverance move 
" Ought else but pity, for the pangs 

" Of unrequited love. 



K 



lG POEMS Abb 

" Now the terrific din of war 
" Disturbed our peaceful plain ; 

" And rumour said, the exulting foe 
" Triumph'd o'er thousands slain. 

" To save the Royal Ethelred, 
" My warlike father flew ; — 

" How could my breaking* heart sustain 
" The sad, the last adieu? 

" Two tedious Summer suns have past ; 

" And twice stern Winters wind, 
" Has spread around a gloomy waste, 

" Fit emblem of my mind, 

" Since I my loyal sire have seen ; 

" But gladsome news of peace, 
" Flatter' d my throbbing- heart, I soon 

" Should meet his fond embrace. 

" Alas ! such bliss, by cruel fate, 
" I was not doom'd to prove; 

" For now the Earl, in bolder terms, 
" Renew 1 d his suit of love. 

e< Depriv'd of him who could protect, 
" He form'd the base design, 

" To seize the hand I oft had vow'd 
" I never would resign. 

" Osric, a wretch, he calls his friend, 
" But whose dishonest mind 

" Bends pliant to his wicked schemes, 
" And acts the part assign' d ; 



MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS. 

" With wily caution mark'd my steps, 

" And as I lonely stray'd, 
" The destin'd fainting victim seiz'd, 

" And to these walls convey'd. 

" This gloomy prison bars the means 
" Which might my griefs disclose, 

" Nor has the noble Randolph learnt, 
" His poor Matilda's woes." 

" Randolph!" exclaim'd the list'ning knight, 
" Say, did you Randolph name? 

" That dear, that honour d friend, who led 
« My youthful steps to fame !" 

Then down his blooming, manly cheek 

The tear of pity stole ; 
And silence, most expressive, told 

The anguish of his soul. 

For he alas ! within his breast 

A fatal secret bore! — 
Matilda's gentle heart must learn 

Her father is no more! 

Low kneeling at her feet, he said, 

In Sorrow's melting tone — 
" Behold, much lov'd, and lovely maid, 

" Long sought, tho' lately known ; 

i( Behold the man, whom Randolph chose 

" His ev'ry thought to share; 
" For whom his gen'rous bosom felt 

" E'en more than father's care! 

c 



18 POEMS AUD 



And oli! with filial love for him 
" I glowM, to such excess, 
As those who feci, alone can know, 
" Who know, cannot express ! 

Twice from th'impending stroke of death, 
" Amidst th'embattled strife, 
Where youthful ardour rashly led, 
" His hand preserved my life. 

With Virtue's charms to store my mind, 
" He Wisdom's precepts drew ; — 
I listen'd to the truths he taught, — 
" From precept, habit grew. 



' Yet still across the moral theme 

" Your lov'd idea came ; 
' And with delight he fondly trac'd 

" Your beauty, and your fame. 

' Oft o'er the sweetly flowing praise, 
" My ear entrane'd has hung; 

( While rapture's murm'ring accents rose, 
" And falter'd on my tongue! 

' Nor did he check the aspiring flame, 

" But on my wishes smil'd ; 
' And pray'd that Heaven, as its best gift 

" Might bless me with his child. 

' Ah! painful task — can I pronounce 

" So dire a tale of woe? — 
1 Greatly he fell, for whom these tears 

" Will never cease to flow! — 



(( 



MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS. 1<) 

And whilst with wild despair, my arm 
" Sustain'd his drooping head; 
Ere from his pale and quiv'ring lip 
" The parting- spirit fled — 

Edric," said he, " my last form'd wish 
" And earthly hope depend 
On thee; and well I know that thou 
" Wilt not deceive thy friend. 

" Oh haste, my lov'd Matilda seek, 

" Bid her and sorrow part — 
" And soon may ev'ry tender tye 

" Unite thee to her heart! 

" Tell her a father's fondest cares 
" Thou wilt thyself comprise — 
" Oh! bless her, gracious Heav'n," he cry'd„ 



Sir Edric paus'd — the fainting maid 
His firm support demands ; 

For lifeless was her beauteous form, 
And icy cold her hands. 

And little less than her he felt, 
Distracted by his fears ; — 

'Till in her op'ning eyes he saw 
Relief, from falling tears. 

Never before did silent grief 

Such eloquence disclose; 
It told what words can never paint- 

A daughter's sacred woes! 

C'2 



20 POEMS AND 

Sir Edric dared not attempt 

Her sorrow to console ; 
Yet oft he gave a sigh, which prov'd, 

How much it touch'd his soul! 

His fond expressive looks recall'd 

The gentle weeping maid, 
To what she ow'd herself and him, 

And faintly she essay'd, 

To pay those thanks, which on her heart 

So deeply were impress'd; 
And in her lovely azure eyes, 

So sweetly stood confess'd. 

But danger, and th' approach of morn 

Alike forbade delay; 
And much Sir Edric urg'd their flight 

Before the coming day. 

Alas! with terror she relates, 

That every gate is clos'd, 
And every key plac'd in the room, 

Where Ruthin's Earl repos'd. 

" A moment then must not be lost," 

The Knight impatient said ; 
" Shew me that room, fair maid;" and on 

With trembling steps she led. 

The door a ready entrance gave, 
And in deep sleep fast bound, 

Under a canopy of state, 
Whose curtains swept the ground, 



MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS, 21 

The Earl lay stretch'd, conceal'd from view, 

His arms were scatter'd near; 
And on an ebon table plac'd, 

The massive keys appear. 

This prize first seiz'd, Sir Edric next 

His glittering sword secur'd; 
And quick retreating, felt his heart 

Of safety well assur'd. 

But ah ! how oft to ecstacy 

Succeeds the pang of woe ! 
Alternate hope, and fear, is all 

That man is doom'd to know! 

The taper, which he partly hid, 

Struck by the closing door, 
Fell with such force, that with loud noise 

It broke upon the floor. 

In darkness left, his former steps 

He try'd to trace again, 
But wanderd wide, and with despair, 

Found every effort vain. 

Osric, meantime, rous'd by the noise, 

Had risen in wild affright; 
And having arnVd with quickest speedy 

And trimm'd his dying light, 

Rush'd forth to learn if treachery 

Had caus'd such dire alarms ; 
And saw Matilda borne along, 

Within a stranger's arms; 
c 3 



POEMS AND 



For such he deem'd the manly form, 

Which dimly lie descry*d; 
And darting forward, plung'd with force 

A dagger in his side. 



■OO' 



Matilda's agonizing- shriek 

Told her deliverer slain; 
While pouring in with eager haste 

Appear' d Earl Ruthin's train. 

Aghast with terror, they survey' d 

The body on the ground; 
For struggling with life's latest pang, 

Their own liege lord they found. 

In mute and sad attention fix'd, 

The image of despair, 
The murderer stood; — of what he'd done, 

Full fatally aware. 

" This hand, my friends," he frantic cry'd, 
" This hand hath done the deed; 

" And by my rash, my desperate stroke, 
" You see Earl Ruthin bleed. 

" A dire mistake impell'd my arm, 

" Not any private strife ; 
" For I would gladly yield my own, 

" To save Earl Ruthin's life." 

They hear him not; — furious with rage 

And hatred long endur'd, 
They seize his arms, and then consult 

Where he may be secur'd. 



MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS. 23 

Once more did renovated hope 

Dispel Matilda's fear; 
When her deliverer, mourn'd as slain. 

She saw in safety near. 

Long- in the gallery's mazy space, 

Sir Edric, erring stray'd, 
'Till distant sounds, and moving lights, 

Prov'd that he was betray'd. 

Guided by these, he soon perceiv'd 

The haughty Earl laid low; 
And bound in cords, foaming with rage, 

His late inhuman foe. 

He sprung to fair Matilda's side 

With looks of fond delight, 
Whilst each spectator's eye bespoke 

Amazement at the sight. 

" Vassals !" he cry'd, " your murder'd lord, 

" Has fall'n by Osric's hand; 
" And justice, in my monarch's name, 

" I solemnly demand. 



a 



No stranger am I — and my rights, 
" To you will soon be shown ; 
" For to the royal Ethelred, 

" My birth and claims are known. 

<c The Baron's sister, Lady Maud, 
" Quitted her native shore, 

" With her lov'd lord, destin'd alas ! 
" To visit it no more. 
c 4 



'2 A POEMS AND 

" An infant orphan long I dwelt, 
" Unknown, in foreign lands; 

" But, train'd to anus, 1 glory sought, 
" Amidst my country's bands. 

" Meantime the Baron mourn'd, as lost, 

" His next, and only heir; 
" And worn alike with age and grief, 

" Gave way to deep despair. 

" Presuming that his wretched state 
" Would make resistance vain ; 

" As next of kin, Earl Ruthin strove 
" To seize his rich domain. 

" But rous'd by outrage bold as this, 



a 



" The good old Baron rose, 

And call'd his faithful vassals round 

" Th'invader to oppose. 

By treacherous arts the place was won, 
" And the poor Baron slain; 
And thus usurp'd, have been those rights, 
" Which I shall soon regain. 

" Sir Randolph," — and a sigh he check' d, 
" Tracd out my birth, and name ; 

" And on his proofs, our gracious king 
" Has ratify' d my claim. 

" I knew not, when but yester night, 

" This castle first I view'd, 
" That at my own paternal seat, 

" I for admission sued. 



MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS, 2$ 

li And sure to keep my birth conceal'd, 

" Heaven kindly interpos'd ; 
" For instant would have been my death, 

u Had I my name disclos'd. 

" My friends, I ask free passport hence, 

" And that you guard with care, 
" The pris'ner's person, 'till the laws 

" His punishments declare!" 

A murmer ran throughout the throng, 

Which one accord bespoke; 
And soon a welcome to the heir, 

In joyful plaudits broke! 

"Tis thus that righteous Heaven bestows 

On innocence its care: 
And thus oppression — guilt, and fraud, 

Its certain vengeance share. 

From but one source can mortal bliss 

In perfect transport flow; — 
Virtue and goodness can alone, 

True happiness bestow. 



3G POEMS A*D 

ODE 

TO THE NAIAD E OF BATH. 

SENT TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE WILLIAM PITT, 

DURING HIS LAST VISIT TO BATH, 

IN THE YEAR 1806. 



Oh, goddess of the vale! 

Who, round this favour'd spring, 
Steep' d in the balmy gale, 

Thy roseate wreath doth fling! 

Lov'st thou, among the varied train, who seek 
Thy fountain, to renew the paly cheek 

With the warm glow of health ; — 
Lov'st thou the ardent, elevated mind, 
By Heaven for earthly good design' d ; 
Yet doom'd by frail mortality to share 
The pangs of sickness : oh ! prepare, prepare 

The renovating draught! He conies by stealth*. 

(For so unconscious worth is ever seen) 
With thoughts uplifted, but retiring mien, 

And suppliant to thee bends, 
On whom a nation's hope, a nations weal depends. 

* Mr. Pitt varied his hours of drinking the waters in the Pump- 
Room, in order to escape the crowd he used to attract. 



MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS. 2? 

Oh goddess ! if by more than chemic art, 
Thou can'st sublime, within thy chaliced shell 
The choicest virtues of this hallow'd well, 

To him the precious gift impart! 

So may thy healing waters ever flow! 

So may they ever soften human woe ! 
And future ages throng to hail 
Thee, bounteous goddess of the vale! 



IMITATION OF THE SONG, 

' O Nanny , wilt thou gang with me?" 

WRITTEN BY THE BISHOP OF DROMORE, 



Oh! Nanny, wilt thou go with me, 

Nor sigh to leave thy sweet retreat; 
Can foreign climes have charms for thee. 

Where Discord still maintains her seat 
Say, canst thou quit such joys serene, 

The toils of savage war to share; 
Nor yet regret the peaceful scene, 

Where thou wert fairest of the fair ? 



2 b POEMS AND 

O Nanny, when thou 1 it far a\vay r 

What fears will wound thy gentle mind! 
When swelling waves disturb the sea, 

And furious blows the adverse wind — 
When vivid lightnings flash amain, 

And thunder loudly rends the air, 
Wilt thou not sigh those seenes to gain, 

Where thou wert fairest of the fair? 

O Nanny, canst thou love so true, 

Through marches long with me to go; 
While scanty fare we both may rue, 

And feel the pangs of many a woe? 
Wilt thou, intrepid, bear them all, 

And think me only worth thy care — 
Nor wistful those gay scenes recal, 

Where thou wert fairest of the fair? 

O Nanny, when th'embattled plain, 

Thy swain from these dear arms shall call- 
Should he be mingled with the slain, 

And nobly in the contest fall; 
Wilt thou with laurel deck his brows, 

And on him drop the tender tear — 
And live as faithful to his vows, 

As thou wilt fairest of the fair? 



MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS. 2$ 

ANSWER 

TO THE FOREGOING BALLAD. 



Yes, Henry, yes ! this faithful heart, 

Can every arduous trial prove; — > 
From friends and native shores can part 9 

Her great security — thy love! 
For oh ! each scene, when thou'rt away 

Assumes an aspect dull and drear ; 
Fled are those hours which shone so gay s 

When thou with happiness wert here! 

No terrors will my fancy wake, 

Though lightnings flash, and thunders roll! 
No elemental discord shake, 

Th'intrepid purpose of my soul! 
For thee alone, in such dread hours, 

I'd breathe the humble, fervent pray'r; 
And grateful thank the heav'nly powers, 

For happiness, wert thou their care. 

With thee how light the sense of toil, 

The tedious march, or short repast! 
To future joys they'll prove a foil, 

When retrospection views them past 
Far from my mind I'll bravely chase 

The ills my timid sex would fear, 
Since nought could rob my soul of peace, 

Or happiness, whilst thou wert near. 



30 POEMS A.\D 

And should — (but Heaven avert the deed) 

Should Henry in the virtuous cause 
Of glory, and his country, bleed, 

Let grateful Britons pay applause. 
For that sad hour in which we part, 

Will prove I liv'd for thee alone, 
For Death must rend this faithful heart, 

When thou, with happiness art gone ! 



WRITTEN TO A FRIEND, 

FROM SOUTH HAY COTTAGE, NEAR BATH, DURING 

THE DREADFUL STORMS OF THE 14TH AND 

15TH OF JANUARY, 1806. 



Oh! where shall I fly from the storm's sullen roar? 

Destruction sure waits on its wild raging' blast! 
Dark, dark are the clouds, and the torrents they 
pour, 
Seem to threaten the earth, with a deluge that's 
vast. 
The lightning's dread glare, shoots athwart thro' 

the sky, 
And I shrink from such terrors — yet where can I fly? 



MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS. 31 

Hark! hark! — -'twas the wind as it rush'd down the 
steep, 

Resistless it seem'd — and methought, tho' so low. 
This cottage had bent, at the menacing sweep, 

For it shook, at the rage of the blast, to and fro ! 
In fearful suspense of the danger that's nigh, 
I breathless remain, — for oh! where can I fly? 

Now the fastenings are burst from the casements 
and door, 
From the " pitiless storm" scarcely shelter is 
found ; 
For chilling the wind is, and damp is the floor, 
Where the rain beating in, spreads curl'd eddies 
around. 
Be still, thou vast spirit, that troublest the sky; 
In pity be still — for I've no where to fly! 

Cold fear shakes my soul, — 'midst the hurricane's 
rage, 

Which to a rude chaos all Nature deforms; 
No soothing sound chears me — no voice to assuage 

My dread of the peril which lurks in the storms! 
I gaze in despair ! alas ! no one is by 
To hear my complaint — or to whom I can fly! 



32 POEMS AX 9 



BALLAD. 



This Ballad was occasioned by the following circumstance : a Lad//, 
who was engaged to an Officer, serving on the Continent, being in 
company where a newspaper -was read, which gave an account of a 
battle having taken place between the English and the French, in 
%ohick numbers of the former had fallen, retired to her own apart- 
inent to conceal her emotion, where she was so?ne time afterwards 
found dead upon the floor. It appeared that the Officer, to whom 
she was betrothed, had died of the wounds he had received about the 
same hour in which she had expired. 



Rude blew the wind around the tower 

Where Ellen sat alone; 
And the long dreary midnight hour 

Had pass'd in piteous moan: 
When in a sudden glare of light, 

Which shook her soul with fear — 
And just revealed to her sight, 

fShe saw her love appear. 

(C Ah! shadowy form of my belov'd! 

" Say what portends this view? 
" Art thou to happier realms remov'd, 

" And come to prove me true ? 
" From thy sunk cheek the rose is fled, 

" And ghastly seems thine eye! 
" If thou art number'd with the dead, 

" Then shortly so shall I!" 



MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS, 33 

" Oh, dearest maid! to me no more 

" To visit earth, 'tis given; 
" But thou may'st still enjoy a store 

" Of bliss, ere thou gain'st Heaven! 
" To say I lov'd thee, e'en in death, 

" My fleeting spirit came, 
" And that my latest ling'ring breath 

" Feebly pronounc'd thy name." 

" Could then my Henry's faithful heart 

" So lightly think of mine? 
66 Already Death performs his part, 

" And I am wholly thine. 
" Stay, take thy love to thy cold grave! 

" She will not be deny'd !" — 
She stretch'd her arms to grasp his shade, 

And then sunk down and died ! 




o-l POEMS AND 



EXTEMPORE. 



WRITTEN IN THE COTTAGE BOOK AT DUDMASTON. 



Oh! ye, whose footsteps from the splendid dome, 
To this sequester'd spot may chance to roam; 
Who court these scenes, day's garish eye to shun, 
Yet Folly's restless course delight to run; 
See where Content has fix'd her humble scat, 
And learn this lesson in her calm retreat ; 
That all the real joys which life bestows, 
The peaceful inmate of the cottage knows. 
Yet think not ye, who turn from mis'ry's tear 
That 'tis the name, which brings Contentment here. 
No: like the bounteous pair who bless this grove, 
Do thou the pangs of want and woe remove! 
So shall ye taste the true, the highest charm 
Which with delight the feeling breast can warm : 
So shall these smiling plains, and shady woods, 
These fragrant flow'rs, and undulating floods ; 
Their sweetest influence o'er your mind impart, 
And Nature boast her triumph over Art. 



MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS. 35 

PARODY 

ON 

CAPTAIN MORRIS'S SONG, 



WRITTEN AT THE REGtUEST OF A FRIEND; 

And as it would be injustice not to give a place to his Lines 

also, which abound with exquisite wit and humour, they 

will be found at the end of these Poems* 



In the Country I never know what to be at, 
Delighted with this, and enraptur'd with that; 
'Midst the beauties of Nature unwearied I roam, 
Or the charms of sweet converse, enjoy when .at 
home. 

Bat in London, good Lord! what a terrible bore, 
To be stunn'd all the day with the raps at your 

door! 
No view from your window, no sun at mid-day, 
Whilst for fog, or for smoke, you can scarce see 

your way. 

In the Country, whilst show'rs the green verdure 

renew, 
We've amusements within, and we've beauties in 

view; 
And when the chill blast, sweeps with rage o'er our 

fields, 
We boast the proud joys hospitality yields! 
d 2 



3t> f'OKMS IAD 

In Town, when it rains, the dread season you rue, 
And feel the worst ill — bavins; nothing to do; 
Should torrents descend, and your coaches can't 

meet, 
No resource can you find — but a peep in the street. 

In the Country we meet for society's sake, 
And we know ev'ry one who our fare shall partake; 
The heart can select, and the judgment approve, 
And our test of admittance, is those that we love. 

In London, no matter who enters your door, 

'Tis sufficient your rooms will not hold one soul 

more; — 
'Tis sufficient your smiles to each guest shouldextend, 
And you welcome a knave, as you welcome a friend. 

In the Country, no homage to fashion we pay, 
Which Nature inverts, and to night turns the day; 
The vot'ries of health, we've no fees to give, 
And a doctor alone in the Country can't live. 

But in London by physic your health is preserved 
For if you're not sick, you are surely un-nerv'd; 
Whilst of med'eine, bad hours, and bad air you've 

your fill, 
Your doctor at least gets good pay for his skill. 

In the Country our visits we make in hroad day, 
Secure that our friends will not turn us away; 
And the peril of driving by night we ne'er know, 
For as well as good cheer, we've good beds to bestow! 



MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS. 3 J 

In Town how delightful to visit by scores, 

Those who only will give you access to their 

doors ! 
Though I ne'er knew the bliss, such it surely must 

be, 
To have an acquaintance with those you ne'er see! 

In the Country, a rubber of whist we oft make, 
But we play for amusement, and not for the 

stake; 
Our losses can't hurt us, for skill we contend, 
We ne'er lose our good humour, or ruin a friend! 

But in London, high play is the charm of your life, 
And to pocket the gold of your neighbour your 

strife ; 
Then your temper a mixture of acid must know, 
When you risk all you have in the world, on a 

throw! 

In the Country we hunt, or we fish, shoot, or ride, 
We have billiards and bowls, and our grounds are 

our pride; 
By exercise strengthen'd, our spirits are bold, 
And we laugh at effeminate beaus who fear cold. 

In Town, where your mornings begin when near 

dark, 
A grand effort you make, when you ride through 

Hyde-Park ; 
And as for your belles, all the airing they know. 
Is a long string of coaches, stuck fast in a row! 
d 3 



38 rOEMS AND 

I've oft heard that love, in the Town they deride, 
That their idol is wealth, and their sole passion, 

pride; 
And that London fine beans will require to their 

chain, 
Such a number of links, that they drag it with pain. 

For their Opera, Ranelagh, concert, or ball, 

I care not a straw, since we out-do them all; 

Can their domes, drest by art, our gay landscapes 
excel, 

Can they boast such a songstress, as sweet Philo- 
mel ! 

As the Country I love, may I there live, and die, 
For the Town cannot boast half its charms, in my 

eye; 
And in sight of its chimnies, may those be confin d, 
Who to each nobler object, their smoke has made 

blind ! 



LINES 

WRITTEN AT THE REQ.UEST OF A FRIEND IN A BLOTTING 
BOOK, PRESENTED BY HER TO LORD VALENTIA, IN 
WHICH HERSELF AND SEVERAL OF THE LADIES IN 
HER FAMILY HAD ALSO WRITTEN VERSES. 

Oh, Muse! that lov'st to dwell 

'Midst laurel bowers! 
And form with magic spell, 

Thy wreath of deathless flowers! 



MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS. o$ 

Oh, Muse ! indulgently on me bestow 
Numbers that breathe, and thoughts that glow 
With thy celestial fire. — 
For him I strike the lyre, 
Who lur'd by Science, from his native soil, 

Where honours court him, and luxurious ease, 
Encounters dangers — baneful climates — toil — 
And the uncertain track of untry'd seas ! 

Go on, illustrious traveller! — pursue 
In safety, and in health, thy patriot view! 
Can ought more elevate the human mind, 
Than thus to prove the lover of mankind? 

India to him her grateful homage pays, 
And Abyssinian shores resound his praise ; 

And thou enchanting Muse, 

* Do'st not refuse, 

But wilt supply 

Sweet poesy 
To deck with friendship's bands the trump of fame, 
And give due honour to Valentia's name. 



In allusion to the preceding poetry written in the book. 



D 4 



40 POEMS AND 



EPILOGUE 



TO THE 

« EFFECTS OF CURIOSITY;' 

A COMEDY, WRITTEN BY MADAME GENLIS, AND ACTED 

AT DUDMASTON BY A PARTY OF LADIES AND 

GENTLEMEN. 



Lord Walcourt enters, speaking as Prompter. 



Well, ladies, now my scene of acting's past, 
I hope you'll give me leave to speak at last — ■ 
What a strange plot! plann'd with true female art, 
Where but one man appears, and his a silent part! 
In vain I urg'd, " the thing is quite absurd, 
" Sustain an hero's character without one word! 
" Tis cruel so to cut me — faith I'll speak, 
" And if you'll give no speeches, rant in Greek." 
" Lord, Sir! how can you be so very teazing; 
" You'll look the part so well, you're sure of pleas- 
ing." 
Thus flattery silcnc'd, and the part has charms, 
Which doom'd me to receive an Helen in my arms. 



MISCELLANEOUS ESS A VS. 41 

Yet on the stage, tho' I've not once been heard, 
Behind the scenes, I've whisper' d every word. 
As thus (ad libitum) and memory supplying, 
Have tutor'd those, who told you I was dying". 
Tis true, my task requir'd uncommon spirit! — 
To each I vow'd her high pretence to merit ; — 
Bade each unnecessary fears resign ; — 
And conquer'd such amazing diffidence as mine. 
For well we knew how difficult to fill, 
Each mimic scene with dignity and skill. 
Here beams the eye of elegance and taste; 
Here dwell the virtues which our Author trae'd! 
Here with true splendour shines the parent's name! 
And real worth, unconscious of its fame! 
Oh! may the choicest gifts which mortals share, 
With added joys await the honour'd pair! 

But now, to find the meaning of the play — 
Curiosity and its Effects — What are they, prayr 
We all renounce the vice, tho' none believe us, 
But Where's the harm? unless tli "Effect's mischievous. 
Nay, frown not — -certainly 'tis very clear, 
That Curiosity alone has led you here! 
The Effects of which, by this unerring measure, 
Are good, if you have heard our play with plea- 
sure. 



POEMS AN* 



EPILOGUE 

TO 

FOOTERS COMEDY OF " TASTE r 

PERFORMED BY SOME YOUNG GENTLEMEN, AND SPOKEN 
BY ONE OF THEM. 



By mimic character, no longer known, 
Lo! here I come, and re-assume my own ; 
Nor do feign d accents now assault the ear, 
But artless truths, which tell what passes her el 
Your kind acceptance of our humble aim, 
The genuine marks of gratitude might claim; 
Yet more than this, in ev ry breast you raise, 
And wake to rapture by your liberal praise. 

Observe the cautious care with which we chuse 
The sportive satire of the comic Muse! 
For modern taste, 'twere dang 'rous to arraign, 
Since all erect, and consecrate its fane: 
If modish buckles, or the high-crown d hat, 
The puJTd up handkerchief, or vast cravat, 
Circle the foot, or nearly hide the face, 
Those form the beau — these give to beauty grace. 
Here no one, I may venture to suppose, 
Sighs for a Venus, who has lost her nose! 



MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS. 43 

Or that so great for China is the rage, 
No other passion can your hearts engage! 
None chuse with ecstacy a broken bust, 
Or know an Otho by its flavour d rust. 

To-night you've seen upon this little stage. 
One striking feature of our Shakspeare's age; 
His female characters, sustain' d by men, 
Exhibited the grace, of Lady Pen *, 
Who, cas'd in stays, and pinch'd by hlgh-heeVd 

shoes, 
Nor body, breath, or limbs, could freely use ! 

This too was taste; — thank Heaven! our polish'd 
days 
With chasten' d judgment, nicer skill displays. 
Custom with slavish rule, no more enchains, 
And beauty indisputed empire gains. 
The intellectual ray, which faintly gleams, 
Fann'd by approving smiles, with splendour beams. 
The social wish expands the glowing heart, 
And self-taught actors venture on their part, 
Secure their ev'ry aim to please, shall know, 
The honour' d patronage which you bestow. 



# Lady Pentvveazle, performed by one of the young gentlemen, 
dressed in women's clothes. 



44 POEMS ASD 



EPILOGUE 

WRITTEN FOR A FRIEND, 

WHO PERFORMED THE PART OF ROVER, IN 

" WILD OATSr 



So fleet, and strange has pass'd the mimic scene, 
That mem'ry scarcely tells me what I've been. 
A friendless orphan in the dawn of life; — 
Then presto! I've both parents, and a wife! — ■ 
Stern Poverty's hard grasp, 'twas mine to prove 
Then to be blest with for tu?ie, and with love! 

Our author begs of you to try his cause; 
Say, has his drama swerv'd from Nature's laws? 
Oft has th'embattled plain, distain'd with gore, 
The helpless infant, from its parent tore, 
And the kind bosom, which could /Wand save 
By cruel fate, been level'd with the grave! 
Pale want, might then unpity'd sorrows tell; — 
Yet should wild genius in that bosom dwell, 
The glowing thought might mis'ry's power con- 

troul, 
And lift above its woes, his daring soul. — 



MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS. 4$ 

Ah! then to fiction, give not pity's tear, 
The child of poverty is always near. 
Probe the ingenuous mind — effect its cure; 
Such is our moral, the ^ £ ward is sure. 

" Aye," cries some female critic, taking snuff, 
a This sowing of Wild Oats, is well enough ; 
" But Lady Amaranth, did you suspect her? 
" And don't you think her Rover will neglect 

her?" 
Oh, monstrous! can I wish to leave those arms ? 
Where pity — gentleness — and beauty charms ? 
Do they not give the bliss to earth assign'd. 
And form a chain to fix the roving mind ? 

More natural the question of that beau ; — 
" Pray how did you in youth, its joys forego?" 
Because its joys I transiently ran o'er, 
And found once tasted, such were joys no more. 
You, who in youth, your Wild Oats have not sown, 
Bear crops of vice, which never can be mown. 
Odious they seem in age's furrow'd brow, 
Nor e'er can meet the suffrage I claim now. 



•iG 



POEMS AISD 



LINES 

WRITTEN WITH THE RUSH, WHICH WHILST GREEN, 
MAY BE MADE INTO A PEN; AND SENT WITH THE 
PEN INCLOSED, TO A BOTANIC FRIEND WHO WISHED 
FOR A SPECIMEN. 



IMPROMPTU. 

Absent from her he lov'd, a shepherd swain, 

To winds, and echo told his am'rous pain. 

" Oh ! to my fair, my sighs," he cried " convey — * 

The breeze grew faint, and echo died away. — 

" The fond remembrances my bosom knows, 

" Teach me, some sacred power! to disclose." 

Sudden the green rush from the earth he drew, 
And pens Love's flow'r * express'd the purple hue. 
The pliant bark-j~ receivd his vows of truth, 
And equal constancy rewards the youth. 
Thus Love, his faithful votaries inspires 
With wilder genius, and subliiner fires ! 

• Viola, 
t The bark of the birch tree may be written upon. 



MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS, 4? 



LINES 

ON READING A MOST EXCELLENT ESSAY ON THE 
APPLICATION OF THE WORD « ROMANTIC." 



Yes! I will woo thee to my breast, 

Where thou may'st aye securely dwell! 

I fear thee not, romantic guest, 

So throw around my heart thy spell : 

Were I thy influence to define, 

I'd say thou did'st exalt — refine, 

The soul to love whatever is divine! 

The envious little mind I do beshrew, 

Which what it understands not, will deride; 
And with less mercy, on the exalted few 
W T ho * differ from the many, will decide- 
Yet as we value most, 

That which is truly rare, 
To differ from the throng should be our boast. 
And to be singularly good our care. 

* Madame CJenlis makes the following beautiful remark on this 
subject. " There are to be found a few generous and exalted cha- 
racters, who are usually called in derision romantic. Such persons 
may sometimes judge erroneously, because they love with fervour 
whatever is most dignified on earth — the sublime in sentiment and 
virtue, and expect in reality to find it in others. This superiority of 
thinking is doubtless extremely rare, but it is not ideal ; and happy 
are they who preserve the noble illusion which excites it, or the hope 
«f discovering it ! 



48 POEMS AND 

Be mine th'illusion, were it nothing more, 
To cherish the bright hope, unfelt before; 
Or form expectancies which may deceive, 
Rather than think I never must believe. 

" Ro??iantic" let me still appear, 

No higher title do I seek; 
'lis trae'd through Pity's lucid tear, 

Tis wrote on Virtue's glowing cheek. 

Tis the bright sun which gilds life's early day, 
And when we view its last departing ray; 
What can succeed, but cold suspicious care, 
Or save the feeling mind from black despair? 



SONNET. 

TRANSLATED FROM PETRARCH. 



Ah, vain desires! w T hy lead my soul astray, 
To follow her, who flies as I pursue ? 

O'er whose cold bosom love can boast no sway, 
Whom neither tears nor suff 'rings can subdue! 



MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS. 4Q 

Whene'er we meet, she shuns my ardent gaze, 
Insensible she hears my broken sighs ; 

And if to plead my suit, my tongue essays, 
The less she listens, or the swifter flies ! 

In vain for me the laurel crown is spread! 

Like unripe fruit, which withers if it fall, 
The sickly branches droop around my head; — 

For she who could alone their bloom recal, 
Has blighted ev'ry youthful hope with care, 
And bids me die — the victim of despair ! 



EPIGRAM. 

TRANSLATED FROM BO ILEA U. 



Ever since I have seen you, Clemene, 
My soul has been tortur'd with care; 

For I love! — and how great is that pain,, 
Inflicted by doubt, and despair ! 

You frown! — yet how can it displease, 
That an object so dear I pursue? 

But perhaps you m^take — be at ease, 
For the fair one I love — Is not you, 

E 



50 POEMS A Mi 



SONG, 

ON THE TOWN AND THE COUNTRY, 

WRITTEN BY CAPTAIN MORRIS. 



In London I never know what to be at, 
Enraptur'd with this, and enchanted with that; 
I am wild with the sweets of Variety's plan, 
And life seems a blessing too happy for man. 

But the Country, Lord help me! sets all matters 

right, 
So calm and composing from morning 'till night; 
Oh! it settles the spirits, though nothing is seen, 
But an ass on a common, or goose on a green! 

Iu Town, if it rain, why it bars not our hope, 
The eye has its range, and the fancy its scope; 
Still the same, though it pour all night and all day. 
It spoils not our prospects, it stops not our way. 

In the Country how blcss'd! when it rains, in the 

fields 
To feast on the transports which shuttle-coek 

yields ; 
Or go crawling from window to window to see, 
A hog on a dunghill, or crow on a tree! 



MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS, 51 

In London how easy we visit and meet, 

Cay pleasure's the theme, and sweet smiles are our 

treat; 
Our mornings a round of good humour, delight, 
And we rattle in comfort to pleasure at night. 

In the Country how charming your visits to make, 
Through ten miles of mud, for formality's sake ; 
With the coachman quite drunk, and the moon in 

a fog, 
And no thoughts in your head, but a ditch or a 

bog. 

Jn London, if folks ill together are put, 
A beau may be drop'd, or a quiz may be cut ; 
We change without end, and if happy or ill, 
Our wants are at hand, and our wishes at will. 

In the Country you're nail'd like a pale in your 

park, 
To some stick of a neighbour, as old as the ark; 
And if you are sick, or in fits tumble down, 
You meet Death, ere the doctor can reaoh you from, 

Town. 

'Tis true, if in fishing you take much delight, 

In a boat you may shiver, from morning till 

night ; 
But though bless'd with the patience which Job had 

of old, 
The devil of a thing can you catch—- but a coldl 
e 2 



62 poems, 8$e. 

Then how often you're screw' d to your chairs fist to 

fist, 
All stupidly yawning, o'er sixpenny whist; 
And although you may lose, 'tis no less true than 

strange, 
You have nothing to pay! — the good folks have no, 

change. 

I've oft heard that love in a cottage is sweet, 
When two hearts in one link of soft sympathy 

meet; 
I know not of that, for alas! I'm a swain, 
Who require, I own it, more links to my chain. 

Your jays and your magpies may chatter in trees, 
And whisper soft nonsense in groves, if they please; 
But a house is much more to my mind than a tree, 
And for groves ! oh ! a sweet grove of chimnies for 
me! 

Then in Town let me live, and in Town let me die. 
For I own I can't relish the Country, not I. 
If I must have a villa in Summer to dwell, 
Oh! give me the sweet shady side of Pall-Mall' 






ESS^l YJ$. 



ESSAY. 



ON THE CULTIVATION OF 



THE SUGAR MAPLE, 

THE ACER SACCHARINUM, 



IN ENGLAND. 



It is rather extraordinary, when we consider the 
high degree of estimation in which the Maple was 
held by the antients, their care in its cultivation, 
and the adaption of its wood to their most costly 
furniture, that its abundant sap, so richly impreg- 
nated with saccharine juice, should have escaped 
notice; or if known, that it should not have been 
employed in domestic economy. It is true, that 
the Acer Campestres, or Common Maple, is the 
one so highly spoken of by Pliny; but Mr. Millar 
asserts, that Sugar may be extracted from every 
species of the Maple; and Dr. Lyster, and Mr. 
Kay actually obtained it from the Acer Pseudo 
Platanus, or Sycamore Tree. The Highlanders of 
Scotland have long converted the sap of the Syca- 
more into a pleasant beverage; and in the Philo- 
sophical Transactions, vol. IV. p. 8 17, Dr. Tongue 
asserts from his own experience, that one bushel of 
malt, brewed with the sap from tiiis tree, yielded 
as large a quantity of good ale, as three bushels 
would have done with common water. 



56 POEMS AND 

The extravagant fondness of the Romans for the 
wood of the Maple almost exceeds credibility; and 
were it not so circumstantially related by Pliny, we 
might be tempted to doubt the excess to which it 
was carried. He describes it thus: — " The Maple 
" is scarcely inferior to the Citron in the elegance 
" and fineness of its wood. There are several 
" species of it most wonderfully beautiful*, espe- 
" cially the White, or French Maple, which grows 
" in Italy, by the side of the Po, beyond the Alps. 
*' One sort, the Acer Campestre, has a grain so 
" curiously knotted and maculated, that from its 
• resemblance it is called the Peacock's-tail Maple. 
" The Bruscum, or Knur, is exquisitely beautiful; 
*'■ but the Molluscum is much more precious. Most 
" of them are produced by knots in the trees, 
" which are most intricately curled, and marked 
" with a variety of forms. Could trees large enough 
' ; to be sawed into planks be procured, they would 
" be infinitely more valuable than the Citron." In 
fact, imagination converted these lines and knots, 
occasioned most probably from some puncture or 
blow the tree had received, into figures of birds, 
beasts, &c. and in proportion to the number, and 
correctness of these delineations, arose the value of 
the wood. Cicero possessed a table which cost him 
ten thousand sesterces; and one which had be- 
longed to King Juba, sold for fifteen thousand ses- 
terces. Mauritanius Ptolemaeus was the envied pos- 

* I have been informed by an intelligent friend, an ofiicer who re- 
sided some years in Canada, thai these Maples abound in (lie Woods 
there. The name they give to an inconceivably beautiful sort, is the 
Bird's-Eye Maple; probably the Peacock Maple of the Romans. 



MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS. 5? 

sessor of one still more valuable. This table mea- 
sured four feet and a half in diameter, was three 
inches thick, and sold for its weight in gold ! 
This expensive taste for tables made of the wood of 
the Maple, presents us with an explanation of a 
sentence often repeated, without its origin being 
known; for according to Pliny, when these luxuri- 
ous Romans used to reproach their wives for ex- 
travagance in dress or jewels, they are used to re- 
tort, and " turn the tables upon tke?n" 

The Maple is of the order and class Polygamia 
Moneocia, and there are ten species of it. 

1st. Acer Pseudo Platanus, or Sycamore Tree, a 
native of Germany, and cultivated in Great Bri- 
tain chiefly for its handsome appearance in 
plantations. It is of quick growth, and thrives 
luxuriantly in most soils. During the months of 
February and March, the sap rises so abundantly, 
that if an incision be made in the trunk, it will pro- 
duce several quarts of sweet juice daily, which, as 
Dr. Willich informs us, when evaporated and clari- 
fied, yields a fine Sugar, in the proportion of one 
pound from sixteen quarts of the sap. 

2nd. The Acer Campestre, or Common Maple. 
This is the species on which Pliny bestows such 
high encomiums, and in the wood of which the an- 
tients so anxiously sought for the Bruscum, which 
contained the representation of birds and animals. 
Surely the caprice of modern taste has never 
equalled the folly the Romans were guilty of, in 
their excessive fondness for these figures, and the 
■value they set upon them! 

3rd. The Acer Regundo, or the Virginian Ash- 
leaved Maple. 



58 POEMS AKD 

4th. The Acer Phalanades, or the Norway Ma- 
ple. 

5th. The Acer Rubrum, or the Scarlet Flower- 
ing Maple. This tree grows plentifully in Pensyl- 
vania, and delights in a swampy soil. The wood is 
esteemed excellent for various purposes; and wool- 
len receives a deep blue from the bark, which also 
makes beautiful black ink. The Canadians have 
long- converted the sap of this tree into Sugar; and 
Millar particularly mentions that he had observed 
a sweet juice to flow from it in great abundance, 
whenever an incision had been made in the bark. 
The blossoms, which appear early in spring', are of 
a fine scarlet colour, which alone renders it worthy 
of a place in shrubberies and plantations. 

6th. The Acer Pensylvacum, or Mountain Maple. 

7th. Acer Tartaricum, or Tartarian Maple. 

8th. Acer Monspassulanum, or Montpelier Ma- 
ple. 

9th. Acer Creticurn, or the Cretan Maple. 

10th. The Acer Saccharinum, by far the most 
valuable of all the species, and denominated in 
America the Sugar Maple, from the rich sweetness 
of its sap, which is easily converted into Sugar. 
This tree is a native of North America, where, 
although it may justly contend with the Sugar 
Cane for superiority, its virtues remained long* un- 
discovered. It appears that when the Canadians 
first procured Sugar from the sap, that part of it 
was usually scut to Rouen, in Normandy, to be re- 
fined. Millar gives directions how to raise plants 
from the Acer Saccharinum, which, he says, are 
very hardy, and require no further care than to 



MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS, 5<) 

protect them, whilst young", from the depredations 
of insects, to which the peculiar sweetness of the 
young shoots no doubt exposes them. The growth 
and size of the trees must probably determine the 
time for the extraction of the sap; but there is no 
reason to believe that they require many years be- 
fore they beg-in to produce it; and as their growth 
continues for two hundred years, and they attain the 
venerable age oifour centuries, neither the renewal 
of labour, or expence, will deduct from the profit. 
The late Dr. Rush, who published a short account 
of this tree in America, with a view to promote its 
cultivation, says, that so far from its being injured 
by being punctured, or as they term it, tapping, the 
more frequent the incisions have been made, the 
more abundant and rich is the sap. A tree has 
been known to nourish well, after forty-two years 
of successive tappings. He adds, that they usually 
begin on the south side, and when the sap ceases 
to flow, perforin the same operation on the north 
side, where it is equally abundant. He is of opi- 
nion that cultivation may improve both the quan- 
tity and quality of the sap, and gives one fact 
within his own knowledge. A farmer in the pro- 
vince of Pensylvania, from some trees of a mo- 
derate size, which he had cultivated in a meadow, 
obtained from three gallons of the sap every year, 
one pound of Sugar, whereas from those trees 
which grew wild in the woods, four or five gallons 
of the sap was requisite to produce the same quan- 
tity of Sugar. Plants of the Sugar Maple may now 
be procured from the Nursery Gardens about Lon- 
don. It has been cultivated for some years in the 
Botanic Garden at Liverpool.^ 



60 POEMS AND 

This tree may almost be termed the weed of the 
soil of North America, for if over-runs that con- 
tinent from Canada to Virginia, containing no less 
than fifteen degrees of latitude; in which Length 
the temperature of the seasons, as well us the na- 
ture of the soil, must materially differ. 

It has been asserted by an American author, that 
no less than three millions of these trees are an- 
nually destroyed in clearing the lands in the State 
of New York alone, and it is surprising that so va- 
luable an article of commerce should have escaped 
the observation of the American settlers for so long 
a time. The Sugar produced in three of the Ame- 
rican States only, has for some years past amounted 
annually to seven millions of pounds. These three 
States are, Ohio, Kentucky, and Vermont. Those 
humane advocates for the suppression of the Slave 
Trade, the Quakers, instituted a society some years 
ago for the sole purpose of bringing this most ex- 
cellent, and long neglected production of the earth 
to perfection ; and it is undoubtedly owing to their 
efforts that we are at the present moment able to 
appreciate its value. 

The infinite labour with which the Sugar Cane is 
propagated, the barbarous traffic it occasions, and 
its being liable to receive injury from insects, and 
unfavourable seasons, all point out the superiority 
of the Maple, which is procured almost without 
culture, flourishes for four centuries, and requires 
no preparatory care before the sap rises. Each tree, 
without injury to itself, yields upwards of twenty 
gallons of juice, which, according to later calcula- 
tions than Dr. Rush's, may produce seven or eight 
pounds of Sugar. The sap has the additional ad- 



MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS. 6l 

vantage of being- produced in the months of Fe- 
bruary and March, when there certainly is a cessa- 
tion from the more important occupations of rural 
industry. 

Some few years ago, a Mr. Drinkur, of Philadel- 
phia, made sixty barrels of Maple Sugar on his own 
estate on the Delaware. He published a Treatise 
on the best manner of manufacturing* it ; and a Mr, 
Pennington, who had been an eminent refiner m 
the West Indies, declared this Sugar to be equal in 
all respects to that produced from the Sugar Cane. 

Several of these facts are to be found in Brissof s 
Tour through the United States of America; who, be- 
fore he engaged in the sanguinary politics of France, 
which finally led to his disgrace and death, had 
devoted himself to those pursuits which promoted 
the interest and happiness of his fellow-creatures 3 
and entitled him to the name of a philanthropist 
Speaking of the Sugar Maple he thus expresses 
himself. " Whenever there shall be found from 
" the north to the south an ardent emulation to 
■" multiply this divine tree, and especially when it 
" shall become a sort of impiety to destroy it, not 
" only may America supply herself, but she may 
" also fill the markets of Europe with a Sugar, the 
" low price of which would 'ruin the trade of the 
" West-India Islands, in a produce washed with the 
" blood and tears of slaves! What an extensive 
£' effect would it besides have, were this tree to be 
*' naturalized throughout ail Europe!" 
• There can be no doubt of its flourishing well in 
most soils in England. It might be planted in 
gardens or orchards, so as not to injure the growth 



Ci POEMS AND 

' way. In America they collect the sap in 
wooden vessels, and boil it as last as they can col- 
lect it in sufficient quantities until it is reduced by 
evaporation to the consistence of Sugar. Perhaps 
a more expeditions, and consequently a better pro- 
cess than this might be found out in this country, 
and the Sugar might even be refined by the same 
operation which would separate it. 

It may be alleged that by naturalizing this tree 
in England, we should destroy a branch of com- 
merce with the West-India Islands, which depend 
upon us for the consumption of their produce, and 
which in fact, by the heavy duties imposed upon it, 
affords a prodigious increase of revenue to this 
country. Let it, however, be remembered, that 
the period may not be very far distant when these 
Islands may become appendages to other States, 
and that it may then be of importance to this na- 
tion to possess within itself a produce for which 
immense sums must otherwise revert into foreign 
hands. It has been predicted, and nothing seems 
more likely that whenever America becomes a 
maritime power, which in process of time may 
probably be the case, her first conquests will be 
the Islands so immediately bordering on her own 
Continent. And should the resolutions of the 
Americans for the suppression of the Slave Trade 
continue to be enforced, this country would even- 
tually have to depend upon the produce of the Su- 
gar Maple cultivated in America. 

None will think these conjectures improbable or 
extravagant, who have heard of the deprivations 
the French have endured for the want of that first 



MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS. 65 

of domestic luxuries, Sugar, or the premiums which 
their government have offered for the discovery of 
asuccedaneum among any of their own productions. 
Could Brissot — could any one have believed before 
the French revolution, that it was possible for them 
to be cut off so effectually from this article of co- 
lonial produce? When Brissot recommended the 
cultivation of the Sugar Maple in France, he had 
in view the advantage of his country, with respect 
to its revenue — not the possibility of its wants; 
and had his ideas at that period been adopted, and 
the Sugar Maple then been introduced into France, 
the trees, which are large enough for the extraction 
of sap, in less than twenty years, would by this 
time have afforded them what they have vainly 
been endeavouring to obtain from the Beet-root 
(i. e. Mangel Wurtzel), their raisins, &c. &c. 

Were the experiment to be made in England, it 
would always be in the power of government to 
check its progress, or turn it to advantage, as the 
exigencies of the times required. But it is possible 
that the sap of the Maple might even be converted 
to a more valuable purpose than extracting Sugar 
from it. Why may not a liquid, so richly impreg- 
nated with a saccharine substance, form the basis 
of an excellent wine? On the authority of Dr. 
Tongue, we see that ale has been prepared from the 
common Sycamore *, and Dr. Willich informs us in 
his most excellent work, the Domestic Enyclopae- 

* A curious fact has been communicated to me by a person on whose 
information I can rely. Observing the abundance of sap which was 
produced in the Sycamore Tree, he was tempted, by way of experi- 
ment, to ingraft an Apple Scion upon it. The effect exceeded his ex- 
pectations, for the fruit was not only very large, and of a very finefia. 
F 



6G poems, 8$c. 

di;i, that the Highlanders of Scotland make a 
wholesome and pleasant beverage from it. The 
sap of the Sugar Maple, with the addition of the 
juice of the grape, or some other of our fruits, 
might form a liquor very different, and less excepti- 
onable in point of fermentation, than the wines which 
have hitherto been made in England. There would 
be little difficulty in procuring- plants of the .Sugar 
Maple from America ; ships frequently arrive from 
thence at Liverpool, in three weeks : a shorter pe- 
riod than plants can be procured from the nurseries 
about London, in some of the remote counties in 
England. 

If so laudable a motive as the opening a new 
source of wealth to this country, cannot stimulate 
those who have sufficient influence to accomplish 
it ; individuals, to whom in fact we generally owe 
the introduction of our most valuable acquisitions, 
may be tempted to possess themselves of a do- 
mestic luxury, the use of which is at present asso- 
ciated with reflections which are revolting to hu- 
manity, and the finer sympathies of our nature *. 

tout, but the young tree also grew so rapidly, as to surprise every one 
who saw it. As there are some Counties in England where the Apple 
Tree cannot be made to flourish, this circumstance may suggest a very 
useful and valuable process, for the Sycamore will grow in any soil. 

* The present high price of Sugar, whether occasioned by real scar- 
city, monopoly, or our disagreement with America, adds another for- 
cible inducement for the culture of the Sugar Maple in England; as it 
proves that it is possible for us to be deprived of this luxury, unless pro- 
cured at an enormous expense. 



ESSAY. 

ON THE ANTIftUITY OF 

STONEHENGE. 



At a time when science is throwing light over the 
obscurity of past ages, and the traveller and the 
antiquary are exploring distant countries to bring 
forward to our view those monuments, " the re- 
cords of former times," which the labour and inge- 
nuity of man has raised to perpetuate the grandeur 
of nations whose very names are nearly forgotten, 
it is to be regretted that a structure which is found 
on our own island*, more curious perhaps in its 
design, and claiming an equal degree of antiquity, 
should no longer excite attention, or be thought 
worthy of investigation. The superstitious history 
which Geoffry of Monmouth gave of Stonehenge, 
and the no less fabulous accounts of some succeed- 
ing authors, have been no farther improved upon 
than by conjectures on the derivation of the name. 
By the antient Britons it was called " Choir Gour," 
or the Giant's Dance, a proof that no tradition of 
its origin remained at that time, although ascribed 
by some writers to their Druids; and that the 

* This Essay was prepared for the Press before the Author of it had 
seen or heard of Sir Richard Colt Hoare's learned Work on the Anti- 
quities of Wiltshire. Had his design been known before the publica- 
tion of it, this Tract would have been deposited in his hands, as the- 
most secure place for candid investigation and elucidation. 
F 2 



CS POEMS AND 

structure was then thought so wonderful, that it 
could only have been raised by supernatural means. 
The present name, Stonehenge, is admitted to be 
of Saxon origin, and signifies a stone gallows, 
which defeats the assertions of those authors who 
say it was built by Hengist; as the idea evidently 
arose from the resemblance the transverse stones 
have to a gallows, and he would unquestionably 
have given it a name more appropriate to the pur- 
pose for which it was built. Here then is another 
proof that at that period no tradition had been pre- 
served of the use, or age of this extraordinary 
structure. Had Stonehenge been used as a temple 
for religious rites, or remained in a perfect state at 
the time the Romans first visited Britain, some ac- 
count would have been given of it by their writers; 
nor would the mechanical skill of the people who 
could move such prodigious bodies and elevate 
them so as to fix them where they now rest, have 
escaped their attention, or commendation. At 
that time it was probably in its present state, neg- 
lected by the inhabitants, and not pointed out 
by them to the invaders as an object of curiosity 
or use. Stability in their buildings seems to have 
been the essential feature in remote ages*; and 
we cannot but reflect how many centuries must 
have elapsed to bring such a structure as this to 
decay, and how many more to involve it in 

* Dcnon, in his Description of the Egyptian Edifices, remarks that 
the most stupendous monuments he saw were all raised by the antient 
Egyptians; and adds — " The vanity of creeling- colossal edifices was 
" the first consideration of opulence, before the Arts had arisen to per- 
" fection. Their ruins give a striking picture of the eternity which 
" they wished to give to their architecture." 



MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS, 69 

oblivion ! But in whatever age Stonehenge was 
erected, the island must have been populous and 
flourishing-, and the natives in some measure ac- 
quainted with the arts. A nation must have arisen far 
above the stages of barbarism, before they could be- 
gin to construct monuments for posterity, or under* 
stand how to erect buildings which may resist the 
elements, or defeat the ravages of time. From this 
rank as a nation, the Britons must have fallen long 
before the Romans visited the island. Such is the 
fate of empires! Such the mutable progression 
from ages of darkness to splendour — from know- 
ledge and refinement, to ignorance and oblivion! 

The late Mr. Warltire, who travelled over this 
kingdom some few years past, and read Lectures on 
Astronomy and Mechanics, had devoted much of 
his time and attention to the study of Stonehenge, 
for he was a man of classical taste as well as uni- 
versal knowledge. His Lecture upon Stonehenge 
can never be effaced from the memory of those who 
heard it. It was original, impressive, and too in- 
teresting to be forgotten ■ 

He exhibited two models of Stonehenge ; one 
as the structure now appears, and the other as it 
stood when it was first erected: and to shew the 
latter, he had nothing more to do than to raise 
those stones which have fallen down, and place 
them in his model as they originally stood. He 
believed Stonehenge to have been intended not 
merely as a temple for religious rites, but as a 
place of grand assemblage for the chiefs of the 
nation on extraordinary occasions; and that the 
two outward circles were designed to divide the 
f 3 



70 rOEMS AND 

multitude according to their different degrees in tlie 
order of society; for he found the innermost circle 
so singularly constructed for speakings that a per- 
son who placed himself against one of the stones, 
(I believe that which was designed for the altar) 
could be heard distinctly on theinside of the circle, 
whilst not one word could be distinguished by those 
who surrounded it ; each pillar, or more properly 
speaking-, stone, being- so placed, that the sounds 
reverberated back, and produced all the effect of a 
solid building-. But the most curious circumstance 
in this gigantic structure, and which seems to have 
escaped the notice of all former observers, is, its 
having- been designed also for astronomical pur- 
poses, and being so constructed that it is a per- 
petual calendar of the motions of the Heavenly 
bodies. Not a single stone is without its use at 
this day, and so will ever remain, allowing- for the 
change in the situation of the constellations by the 
procession of the equinoxes! In the approach to 
the building, which forms a sort of avenue, there 
is an immense stone in an inclined position, gene-r 
rally supposed to have sunk into the ground, and 
to have lost its perpendicular line from accident, or 
time. This is not the case, for the stone was so 
placed for the purpose of making Lunar observa- 
tions, and more than one half of it, immense as it 
is, is sunk into the ground, to preserve it in its 
present position. Mr. Warltire examined the whole 
of the adjacent country, to ascertain, if possible, 
the place from whence these ponderous stones were 
brought, and discovered similar ones at the distance 
of about fifteen miles. His search was rewarded^ 



MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS. 'Jl 

and his conjectures confirmed, by finding a broken 
one in a direct line between the two places, lying- in 
a small rivulet, where it has ever since remained, 
and probably ever will remain, as no power we now 
make use of could remove it. This fragment is cut 
in the proper shape for the place intended for it. 
The identical stone which was afterwards taken to 
Stonehenge to supply its place, he readily found 
out by comparing the measure with the one he saw 
in the stream. 

As we know of no mechanical power equal to 
that of the lever, may it not be an allowable con- 
jecture that a combined and multiplied use of it, by 
some contrivance now unknown, aided by a com- 
bination of human strength also, were the means 
employed to raise such enormous masses as are 
found in the antient Egyptian edifices, and Stone- 
henge. It is much more probable that some mode 
in which the lever was employed, should have been 
lost in the lapse of ages, than that any simple 
power so wonderful in its operations, should have 
been forgotten. Perhaps the cause might be as- 
cribed to the increasing value of labour, which 
might render the expense too enormous to continue 
the practice of such a style of building. If these 
suppositions are admitted, what an infinite number 
of hands must have been employed to remove the 
immense bodies which are found at Stonehenge ! — 
And how nicely adapted to each other must every 
movement have been. Imagination can scarcely do 
justice to such a scene! The surrounding plains 
must have been covered with people, all busied, and 
their operations directed to a given point! The 
f 4 



72 POEMS A\n 

means of collecting such a force, cannot but strike 
us with surprise, if we reflect that Edward the 
Third, when he was building Windsor Castle, 
could not procure a sufficient number of workmen 
to finish it, and was under the necessity of issuing 
impress warrants in several distant counties, in 
order to procure them. 

Mr. Warltire said, that the age of Stonehengo 
might be accurately known, by calculating the de- 
viation of the altar from due east, to which it had 
unquestionably pointed, when the pile was erected, 
as the number of degrees * it now varied from that 
point, would give the number of years it had been 
constructed. He said these were circumstances which 
induced to the belief that this island had formerly 

* The discovery of the method of calculating the Chronology of 
Time was left for the comprehensive mind of Sir Isaac Newton : Astro- 
nomical observations seem to have conducted him to this sublime 
study. The Antients had observed some change in the constellations, 
with respect to the Equinoxes ; but they were no less mistaken in their 
astronomical calculations, than they were in that of their system of 
Natural Philosophy. Sir Isaac Newton, by determining the figure of 
the Earth, explained the cause of the revolution of the Equinoxes^ 
and it is now known, that besides its annual and diurnal motion, the 
Earth has also a third revolution, that of its Poles having a very slow 
retrograde motion from east to west, whence it happens that their posi- 
tion does not every day exactly correspond with the same point in the 
Heavens. The entire revolution of the Poles is performed in twenty- 
five thousand nine hundred years. Now, as every sign of the Zodiac 
contains thirty degrees, and every degree is equivalent to seventy-two 
years, the only thing necessary to settle this Chronology is to observe 
through what star the eolure of the Equinox passes, and where it in- 
tersects, at this time, the Ecliptic in the Spring; and then to discover 
in any antient Writer, in what point the Ecliptic was intersected in 
his time by the same eolure of the Equinoxes. Should the Altar at 
Stonelienge be found to have deviated forty-five degrees from what is 
now due east, in that case, according to the foregoing calculation, the 
structure must have been raised three thousand two hundred and forty 
years ago. 



MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS. f3 

been colonized from, or had an intercourse with, 
the Eastern World; as in some of the Indian ma- 
nuscripts, published by Sir William Jones, in his 
Asiatic Miscellanies, there were observations on the 
eclipses of the moon, which could have been made 
from no other spot on the earth than Stonehenge. 
After these extraordinary, and in appearance, well- 
founded suggestions, it may not be thought too ex- 
travagant an idea to place the erection of Stone- 
henge to that era when the Egyptians are supposed 
to have raised the almost indestructible monuments 
of their glory, The moving and elevating large 
bodies must have been well understood by them 5 
and it is singular that this principle in mechanics 
should be lost to them, as well as to us. Denon, 
speaking of the portico of Hermopolis, exclaims 
with the energy of those feelings which the sight of 
it inspired, " That the present race of men might 
" believe it to be the work of a God * !" 

The first account we have of any intercourse 
between the natives of this island, and any distant 
nations, is that of the Phoenicians and Tyrians hav- 
ing traded to the coast of Cornwall for tin ; but it 
does not follow that they were the first people who 

* Monsieur A. F. Saint Fond, in his Tour through England to the 
Island of Staffor, in the Hebrides, remarks that in the antient City of 
Sterling, where the Scottish Kings resided formerly, he saw singular 
antique Basso-relievos in stone, fixed in old walls, and that these pieces 
of sculpture had the appearance of sepulchral monuments, resembling 
those of Egypt, as they consisted of figures wrapped up in a covering 
like the swathing of mummies, and that they have an evident resem- 
blance to tho:»e in Malta, which are believed to have had an Egyptian 
origin. The same interesting Author mentions a circle of immense 
stones which they saw on the road, but which, supposing it to be 
merely a Druidical Temple, they unfortunately quitted without exami* 
nation. Farther on, however, at Aehnacregs, they came to a very 



/4 POEMS .USD 

discovered it. Their skill in navigation if has been- 
said did not much extend beyond that of coasting, 

and it is therefore improbable that they should first 
have traversed the Mediterranean and British seas 
in search of articles of commerce. The fame of 
the island, and the mines it contained, must have . 
reached them before they would venture upon such 
a voyage. The first great maritime power that is 
known to have existed, were the Malayans. The 
inhabitants of this peninsula, according- to Eastern 
records, once possessed the sovereignty of the seas r 
and it is an extraordinary proof how long- national 
characteristics prevail, that to this day the Malaya 
seamen are preferred to all others in the East. If 
the having sailed round the Cape be denied them, 
they might have penetrated into Egypt, and from- 
thence have navigated the Mediterranean and Bri- 
tish seas, for the purpose of making- discoveries. 
This is better suited to the genius of such a bold 
and adventurous people as they are then repre- 
sented to have been, than to the Tyrians and Phoe- 
nicians; and as the Sciences are said to have tra- 
velled westward, they might have introduced into 
those countries which they visited, a knowledge of 

large single column, lying flat on the ground, and broken in the mid- 
dle; on measuring it, they found it to be twenty-two feet long. He 
says their guide ascribed its erection to Ossian. " Never was there a 
" person," said he, " who could move this vast stone except Ossian, 
" and new thai an earthquake has laid it flat, no one in the World can 
"set it up again!" Between Kirdally and Kingshorn he also saw 
three upright rude pillars, measuring fifteen feet above the ground, 
and of considerable thickness; he thinks them of the most remote an- 
tiquity, and urges the Society of Antiquarians in Edinburgh, to engage 
in an investigation of them. What would such an acute observer have 
said if he had beheld Stoueheuge i 



MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS, f5 

Astronomy and the Arts. Conjectures like these 
ought not to be ridiculed as absurdities when they 
are supported by customs and buildings in the East, 
which bear a strict analogy to those within these 
kingdoms. 

The custom of trying criminals by the ordeal of 
fire and water, as was practised by our Saxon an- 
cestors, prevails amongst the Malayans to this day. 
Lord Valentia found at Bhaugalpore two round 
towers, so perfectly resembling those in Ireland, 
which have so much engaged the attention of the 
curious as to place it beyond a doubt that they 
were constructed for the same purpose, whatever 
that might have been, although there does not 
exist in either country any tradition concerning 
them: and at Benares he says the Hindoos cele- 
brate the return of the vernal equinox, by an 
amusement similar to what is termed in England 
making April fools. Lord Valentia remarks, that 
as the periods for celebration so nearly coincide, 
for their festivals are always at the same season, 
he thinks it points out a remarkable connection be- 
tween the antient religion of Europe and that of the 
peninsula. Certainly these curious facts may be 
admitted in support of the opinion that an inter- 
course must have existed at some very remote pe- 
riod, between these distant nations:- — but stronger 
than all is Mr. Warltire's assertion with respect to 
the eclipses. 

If so powerful a nation as the antient Malayans, 
who inhabited a fine country and climate, and were 
surrounded by rich islands, whose produce they 
could command by their superior skill in naviga- 
tion, should have sunk into insignificance, we can- 



76 POEMS, §■*. 

not wonder that Britain should have fallen into 
similar obscurity for a time. Whatever we view in 
the natural world, is in a constant progressive 
state — first, towards perfection, and next to decay; 
and thus in the moral world, the torch of Science 
may have been lighted — extinguished — and re-illu- 
mined 1— 

To those who are disinclined to admit of conjee- 
ture, when the page of History is blank, and the 
obscurity of past ages impenetrable, this imperfect 
Essay may at least afford cause for enquiries, from 
which proofs may be obtained, The Astronomer 
may satisfy himself and the world with respect to 
the eclipses mentioned in the Asiatic Researches, 
as well as that of the structure having been de- 
signed to point out the motion of the heavenly bo- 
dies, and form a perpetual calendar ; and he may, 
according to the rule given, if he is not too scepti- 
cal to allow that the altar must have pointed due 
east at its erection, calculate the age of this won- 
derful pile! — The Antiquarian may also search for 
the broken fragment which lies in the little rivulet, 
and ascertain the truth of the other observations. 

Stonehenge ought certainly to excite our strong- 
est interest. It is the only national monument of 
remote antiquity of which we can boast; — the only 
feature by which we can judge of the skill, popula- 
tion, and political importance of our ancestors. If 
we can trace its origin to such a distant period as 
the preceding account is intended to establish, 
Britain must have held a high rank formerly in the 
scale of nations; and have only arisen from ob- 
scurity to renewed splendour. 



ESSAY. 

SOME ACCOUNT OF 

AN ANTIENT CAVERN, 

LATELY DISCOVERED AT BURCOTT, NEAR BRIDGNORTH, 
AND SUPPOSED TO HAVE BEEN A TEMPLE CONSE- 
CRATED TO THE PURPOSE OF OFFERING HUMAN 
SACRIFICES TO THE DEITY. 



Adjoining to the spot where this Cavern has re^ 
cently been discovered, is a common, called Soudley, 
on which some vestiges of encampments, or very 
antient buildings are to be traced. Mr. Hardwiek 
of Burcott, having employed some workmen to 
remove soil from the side of a hill, they came to 
a cavern of some extent, which has, however, more 
the appearance of a natural cavity in the rock, than 
to have been formed by art. The rock is composed 
of red-sand stone, with strata of white marl run- 
ning- across it. Here they found several human 
skeletons, as well as those of various other animals. 
The human bones were scattered about, and those 
which lay on a stratum of the white marl, were in 
perfect preservation, especially the teeth, which had 
not lost their enamel. It is a most extraordinary 
fact, that in each of the human heads, the lower 
jaw-bones were wanting; and from the upper jaw 
some of the front teeth had invariably been re- 
moved. That the latter circumstance had not been 
occasioned by accident, or decay, was sufficiently 



7^ POEMS AND 

evident, as one of the subjects was young, flic 
hindermost teeth, or as they arc commonly called, 
the wise teeth, having but just began to appear. 
One skull was found forced into a crevice of the 
rock. It lay on the marly stratum, and was tilled 
with marl and the shells of snails. The teeth were 
in the highest degree of preservation, with the ex- 
ception of two of them having been taken from the 
front, as had been observed in the other skulls. — 
The lower jaw-bone was also wanting. An hearth, 
on which fire had been burned, was very visible, 
and on it were found two flints, and some pieces of 
charcoal made from the wood of the oak. The 
bones of the animals were those of the deer, a pig, 
a sheep, and two dogs. 

That the opening to this Cavern has been filled 
up with soil, either by accident, or for the purposes 
of concealment, is evident ; and that it could not 
have been a human habitation is equally apparent. 
Had it been such, and the entrance suddenly closed 
by the falling in of part of it, there would have 
been some appearance of broken culinary utensil's, 
or furniture, none of which were discovered. The 
skeletons also would have been found entire, the 
bones have lain regularly, and no part of them, 
such as the teeth and under jaw-bones have been 
missing. 

Although the accounts we have of the manner of 
offering up human sacrifices in the ages of super- 
stition are very obscure, yet some authors have re- 
lated, that the unfortunate objects so immolated, 
were frequently deprived of part of their limbs; 
and that it was customary to sacrifice different ani- 



Miscellaneous essays, 79 

snals at the same time. No such sacrifices, how- 
ever, have taken place in this island for near twenty 
•centuries past. 

The Druids, we are told, always chose retired 
places for their mysterious and barbarous ceremo- 
nies ; but a Cavern like this, could not have been 
a temple of regular resort. As vestiges of an en- 
campment are visible near to it, it is more probable 
that it was used as a temporary altar, and that the 
skeletons found were those of victims offered up 
for the success of a depending- battle, or as a mark 
of horrible exultation over a fallen enemy! And 
probably when it was no longer used, the cavity 
might have been closed up to conceal the rites 
which had been performed. 

It is known that near to this spot some memo- 
rable battles have been fought. A fordable pass 
across the Worfe, not far distant, retains the name 
of Hallon's Ford to this day, in remembrance of a 
British prince of that name who is said to have 
fallen there. About twenty years ago some men 
were employed to drain a meadow on the banks of 
the Worfe, who found about eight feet below the 
surface of the earth, a thong of the skin of some 
animal, on which there were hung small round 
pieces of gold, with suns, moons, battle axes, and 
chariot wheels, rudely delineated upon them. The 
man took it to Mr. Bromwich, at that time vicar of 
Worfiekl, who, not being an Antiquarian, after 
having examined it, gave back this curious record 
of former ages to the workmen. His parochial du- 
ties calling him soon afterwards to Lichfield, he 
mentioned the circumstance to Dr. Green, the ce- 



80 POEMS, 8fC. 

lebrated collector of antiquities, and learnt to his 
great chagrin that it was a belt of memory, which 
would have been invaluable in the entire state in 
which he described it. These belts, or girdles, 
were worn by persons of distinction previous to the 
knowledge of printing or writing, to preserve the 
remembrance of remarkable events; the figure of 
the sun having been designed to denote the year, 
the moon that of the months ; and the intervening 
signs of battle-axes, wheels, &c. pointed out the 
occurrences which had taken place between those 
periods. As Prince Hallon was the chief person 
who fell in this battle, it is probable that it be- 
longed to him. Dr. Green besought Mr. Bromwich 
to spare neither trouble nor expence in recovering 
the whole, or any part of so precious a relic of an- 
tiquity, and in this search the writer of this Essay 
assisted him ; but all enquiries were fruitless. The 
workmen judging of the value of it from the little 
attention paid to it by Mr. Bromwich, had given 
these small ornaments to the children of the cotta- 
gers where they lodged, as play-things, and not one 
of them could be found. 

The bones, and other curiosities found in the 
Cavern at Burcott, are carefully preserved by Mr. 
Hardwick for the inspection of the curious. 



FINIS. 



NORBURY, PRINTER, BRENTFORD. 



Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. 
Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide 
Treatment Date: April 2009 



